While my knee convalesces, my wife and I have been cycling together a little. It’s my first cycling since the knee injury, so I cycle at a much more acceptable pace for my wife, as I try to take it easy. That’s a good thing. Also good are the excuses that Fort Collins gives us to ride our bikes. This weekend, we made a trip each day to Old Town to see local musicians (and national artists) at Bohemian Nights at New West Fest. The festival was also an excuse to flex my legs with some nice easy walking—also a good thing.
On Sunday, we went for a short period to see just a couple of bands play, stopped for a beer at Fort Collins newest of 7 breweries, Equinox Brewing for a pint, then went to our bikes. There was a young woman who had arrived and was locking her bike up next to mine. On the rear rack of the bike was a milk crate basket, and inside it sat a small fluffy dog, waiting patiently to be released. I had to squeeze in close to the dog to unlock my bike, and made a joking remark about being afraid of the vicious dog.
We got into a conversation with the young lady about how everyone seems to like her fluffy little dog, which looked kind of like a small poodle that has not been groomed in a while (turned out to be a Bichon/Pomeranian mix). The dog was cute, and it’s behavior exemplary, so it was easy to see why people would be attracted to it, although it was a little bit scruffy. As we unlocked out bikes and got our gear set up to leave, we continued the conversation with the young woman, and a group of older women stopped for a while to fawn over the dog. Is it a boy or girl; what is his breed; he’s so cute, etc…
We finally extricated out bikes from the rack and were ready to leave when the group of older ladies finally moved on. The dog was standing on the ground looking patiently at the young lady, tail wagging gently, panting.
“Gee. He’s a real geriatric chick magnet,” I said.
As my wife scolded me for saying such a thing out loud, the girl said, “It’s true. Just my luck.”
Then we were off.